


Shadows Are Falling

by Jinxter



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 12:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxter/pseuds/Jinxter
Summary: Babygirl is back, and yet Wynonna still can't sleep. Nicole knows these kind of nights.





	Shadows Are Falling

**Author's Note:**

> me: okay, let's work on this wip  
brain: here's a one-shot idea  
me: really? must you?  
brain:  
me: okay
> 
> prob very mistakey and unrefined, i literally just typed it up in here real quick to get it out coz i'm supposed to be concentrating on my wip but ol' muse is misbehaving again.
> 
> come @ me on twitter - @griddles83
> 
> (title is from 'keep me in your heart' by warren zevon)

It is not one, singular, jarring sound that wakes Nicole, but rather a series of small, familiar noises. The squeak of a doorknob, the creak of the third stair, the click of a light switch, the rattle of condiment bottles in the refrigerator door as it is opened, the quiet scrape of a chair leg on the kitchen floor. She knows Wynonna is trying to be quiet, she knows what the ruckus of her not trying to be quiet sounds like, and she supposes she has Waverly to thank for that. 

Waverly. Nicole buries her nose in the brunette hair of the woman nestled in beside her and breathes in the soft scent she has missed so dreadfully over the past months. Time dragged so slowly without her, the mission to get her back taking far longer than any of them had hoped it would take, and then time accelerated again now as all they wanted to do was finally give in to their exhaustion, soak each other back up, make up for all their time apart, and just heal together. But there is little time for that. Waverly and Doc had been separated in The Garden, and though they'd finally managed to get in, get to her, they had been forced to retreat. Now they had to regroup and go back again to find Doc. At least now they had Waverly, and though she was insistent on returning with them, and though both Nicole and Wynonna weren't particularly comfortable with her returning with them to the front line, they knew they'd never be able to stop her. Sweet Waverly, too brave for her own good.

Waverly's hand holds her own, their fingers laced, the pair resting against her heart. Nicole strokes her thumb over the pinkish purple scars on the back of Waverly's, just two of the many new ones they both now have, inside and out. She presses a kiss to her girlfriend's temple and feels her softly sigh in her sleep.

Sliding out of the warmth of too-many blankets, Nicole silently slips away. The bedroom door is already open when she reaches it, and where she once would have felt annoyed at Wynonna's intrusion, instead her heart now ached for her friend, understanding her pain, her need, her unwillingness to ask. The third stair creaks as she intends it to, announcing her arrival to the older brunette in the kitchen. Wynonna looks up, her eyes red ringed and puffy, a glass of whiskey in her hand. The amber liquid swirls around in it at the gentle circular motion of Wynonna's wrist.

"Hey," she ventures.

Wynonna grunts. "What are you doing up?"

Nicole leans against the doorway and crosses her arms. "I know you're trying to be quiet, but I can still hear you."

"At least I try to be quiet," Wynonna grumbles, throwing an arched eyebrow at her friend. "Can't say the same for you two last night."

The redhead chuckles softly. Wynonna's constant interruptions had always driven her mad before _The Garden_, and she had begun to take a tiny morsel of satisfaction in the payback of unintentionally causing Wynonna discomfort. A little still lingered, but not much. "True, but you can't blame us for keeping you awake tonight." She tilts her head slightly and lowers her voice. "The dreams again?"

Wynonna doesn't need to answer. The glass stills in her hand and she stares at it a moment before tipping the contents down her throat.

"Come on," Nicole says, and holds out her hand.

The brunette looks at it as though the action is foreign to her, though the truth is far from it. "We can't," she says, her voice rough from the alcohol and exhaustion.

"It's fine. It'll be fine. Just come." She leaves her hand extended, waiting as a long moment passes. Wynonna looks between it and her glass, deciding. Nicole recognises the hesitation in refilling the glass for what it is and steps forward, her fingers curling around Wynonna's forearm. She takes the glass with her other hand, and places it on the table. Wynonna doesn't resist as Nicole tugs gently, her hand sliding down Wynonna's bare arm until their hands are clasped. Nicole switches the light off as they leave the room, they both step on the inner edge of the third stair to prevent it from creaking as they ascend, Wynonna trailing behind like a tired puppy.

She hesitates when Nicole guides her into the bedroom first and turns to close the door behind them. Nicole places her hands on either side of Wynonna's waist, and in the dim, blue moonlight, guides her across the room to her side of the bed. She lifts up the blankets and after only the slightest pause, Wynonna slides in.

Waverly stirs at the movement, her eyes flutter open and she reaches out, her hand cupping her sister's jaw. Her thumb strokes her big sister's cheek before she moves, taking hold of her hand between them, pulling her closer. "Wynonna," she murmurs sleepily, closing her eyes again with a smile. 

Their knees bump as Wynonna shuffles forward. "Babygirl," she says softly, almost like a prayer, and presses their foreheads together. The bed dips as Nicole slips in behind her, her long legs tucking in behind Wynonna's, body pressing right up against her back, an arm drapes over her waist and chin rests on her shoulder. Wynonna closes her eyes, trying to stop the moisture from escaping but still a tear slips free and dots the pillow beneath her. Another quickly follows.

Nicole feels Wynonna's shaky breath and tightens her hold, and the older woman sinks into the warmth and comfort that has become familiar and reassuring over recent months, the only thing that gave her any kind of restful sleep. A warmth and comfort she had figured she wouldn't be graced with anymore, and had grieved the night before over a bottle of whiskey. She had tried to tell herself she'd lived without it before and could live without it again, but maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have to.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah it's ambiguous, but i blame @gaypurgatory for making me think '[wynaught](https://twitter.com/gaypurgatory/status/1188547854471716871)'? love me some soft wynaught.


End file.
